


but i can't go back (they'll eat me alive)

by fricklefracklefloof



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: ABSENTEE SLAPS GO LISTEN TO IT, Angst, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, F/F, Fainting, Hurt/Comfort, NO THIS ISN'T A SONGFIC I JUST COULDN'T THINK OF A TITLE, No beta we kayak like Tim, Season/Series 04, before melanie escapes the institute, canon typical trauma, i take the jonmartin tropes and i shove them on wtgfs, i think this counts as a sickfic?, it's more implied but just in case!, melanie gets kind of triggered at one point just a heads up, sorry it's kind of messy, statement sick or whatever it's called, you know all that jazz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:35:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28658073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fricklefracklefloof/pseuds/fricklefracklefloof
Summary: if it came to thati wouldn't even tryMelanie says she's done with the Magnus Institute. That's all. She won't elaborate.Georgie believes her, of course. But maybe the Institute isn't quite done with her.[title is a lyric from "absentee" by jack campbell]
Relationships: Georgie Barker/Melanie King
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	but i can't go back (they'll eat me alive)

Georgie’s editing a new episode of her podcast when Melanie bursts through the front door of her flat, intending to stay there for good.

“I’m done,” she announces, shoving her bags down on the floor. “I’m not going back there again.”

“You quit the Institute?” Georgie asks, surprised. She’s hardly been there herself, but from what Melanie has told her, it’s pretty hard to just quit.

“In a way,” Melanie says vaguely. “It doesn’t matter. I can’t stand another _minute_ of being around those awful people without going insane.”

“But don’t you… alright,” Georgie agrees, realizing that Melanie doesn’t want to discuss this further as her girlfriend goes over to scoop up the Admiral, anger immediately washing away so she can murmur sweet things to her cat. They’ll talk about it later, maybe over dinner. Maybe Georgie can convince Melanie to let them get Hungarian tonight.

“Oh, I sure missed you,” Melanie coos, burying her face in the Admiral’s soft white fur. “Mus’ be nice not having to feed an evil god.” Georgie notes to herself, for the second time today, that the cat is getting uncomfortably large. Somehow Melanie is the one that comes to his defense on this topic, though; if Georgie brought it up again, she’d probably whine that he’s perfect just the way he is.

Georgie has to admit she’s glad to have Melanie here, too. The flat always feels so empty when she’s not here on the weekends. “He missed you, too,” she replies, pulling the cat and her girlfriend into a quick embrace. “You know he only takes your spot on the couch when you’re around. I think he just likes messing with you.”

Melanie gives an adorable dopey smile that Georgie _knows_ she wouldn’t be caught dead making around anyone else. “You _love_ me,” she tells the Admiral, who’s more than happy to have all the attention.

Georgie supposes this is alright.

The rest of the afternoon is fairly uneventful, almost lazy even after Melanie’s announcement. Georgie gets some assistance on her newest _What the Ghost_ episode; Melanie’s always got a few tips and tricks up her sleeve back from her Youtube days. Melanie laughs more loudly than she has in a while over dinner. They don’t talk about the Institute.

Melanie lasts until just after the weekend.

Looking back, maybe Georgie should have noticed the signs beforehand. But Melanie has always been one to conceal any weakness as much as possible, and if Georgie shows even a hint of concern it’s always met with a growled, “I’m _fine._ ”

As someone who makes her living off sponsorships and running a podcast, Georgie is lucky enough to have the privilege to sleep in as much as she’d like on weekdays, working on her own schedule. And Melanie quit her job, of course. Still, her girlfriend lingers in bed longer than usual this morning, and Georgie is more than a little concerned about Melanie being vaguer than usual today, unable to hold much of a conversation over breakfast and staring into space like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world. But when Georgie asks about it, Melanie just downs her coffee in one go and everything seems to be okay again.

They go for their morning walk, and Georgie tries to slow their pace just a little, trying not to push her girlfriend, but Melanie catches her in the act and insists that she’s fine. Georgie doesn’t want to push her, so she drops the subject for the rest of the walk. 

She tells Melanie about the next thing she’s studying for _What The Ghost?,_ something about some weird zombie disease in deer. Fear is only a fleeting memory for Georgie now; sometimes she feels a little like an impostor when doing research for her podcast, so she always runs her ideas by Melanie. It’s not that every supernatural activity that Georgie talks about necessarily has to be _scary,_ but it helps to get some feedback when Georgie’s not even sure what people consider _gross_ anymore, let alone scary. Judging from Melanie’s face when she brings up the subject, though, zombie deer seem to be pretty good.

Feeling optimistic, Georgie nearly forgets all about Melanie’s state from this morning as they’re making their way back to her flat. That is, until Melanie stumbles through the door and falls to the ground.

“Christ, Mel,” Georgie hisses as she moves to grab her. It’s not that she expected this, but, well, someone who can’t feel fear can’t really get startled. Melanie’s shockingly light in her arms.

The moment Melanie’s eyes flutter open she shoves Georgie away with so much force she might as well have been a stranger to her and not her girlfriend. 

“Get _away_ from me!” she shrieks, fumbling for what Georgie guesses must be her knife, until realization reaches her face and the crackling anger in her eyes dims. With a pang, Georgie recalls when Melanie had told her of waking up to her coworkers in her home, digging into her leg and taking out something that mattered to her.

Georgie is not sorry for grabbing her. Someone had to be there. She’s sorry that Melanie had to be touched without her consent, but not for helping her.

“I’m _fine,_ ” Melanie hisses, but there’s guilt in her eyes. She’s still panting heavily, and Georgie knows she wouldn’t have the strength to fight her anyways.

“Clearly not,” Georgie insists. “You’re on the floor.”

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” Melanie says again with a huff. She tries to stagger to her feet and nearly falls back down again, wobbling on one knee.

“You’re not. Can I _help_ you?” Georgie asks firmly, reaching a questioning hand out to her.

“No.” With a considerable amount of effort, Melanie manages to stand. Georgie watches as she staggers across the room to get herself a glass of water, hands shaking as she does so. 

This isn’t going to go well, Georgie knows it, but Melanie’s eyes shoot daggers at her the moment she tries to even move.

Still, she’s there in an instant when the glass shatters to the floor and Melanie topples down with it.

“God. _Fuck!_ ” Melanie swears. She’s shaking as she makes yet another pitiful attempt to stand, sliding helplessly on the floor.

“You don’t have to get up,” Georgie tells her quietly, holding out her hands in another silent request. “It’s alright.”

“No, it’s _not!_ ” Melanie practically shrieks, sinking down to the ground in furious defeat. “I hate this. I hate the stupid Institute. I hate _needing_ it.”

The Institute. Of _course._ Melanie had mentioned having to feed some evil thing there; maybe it bound her to that place somehow. Maybe it sustained her, in a way. Georgie remembered how tired Jon always used to seem when he stayed at her flat—or at least, more exhausted than he usually was.

“I’m sorry,” is all Georgie can say.

Melanie just sits there, still quivering with anger and sickness. Finally, she pulls Georgie into a furious hug, burying her face into her shoulder and clutching the fabric of her shirt in trembling fists.

“It’s _awful_ there, Georgie. Everyone there—they say they’re not, but they’re all so _evil._ They’ve forgotten what it is to be human anymore, to be _good people_ . Even the actual humans.” Melanie’s practically weeping now, but Georgie doesn’t say anything about it. “I just—I just don’t understand how they can _stand_ it. To _stay_ in that place.”

Georgie can confess she doesn’t really understand, either. Even when Jon had disclosed as little information as possible about his job back when he was living with her, she’d been pretty suspicious of the place. She supposes it must be a side effect of the thing they’re feeding. Somehow it must not work on Melanie. She’s stronger than that.

“Maybe they don’t have any other choice,” Georgie whispers, rubbing soft circles in Melanie’s back.

“It’s pretty much life or death,” Melanie says bitterly. “But I don’t care. I’ll figure out a way. If I die, then I die.”

Georgie pulls away for a moment to look Melanie in the eye. “You’d really die?”

“Well—”

“Because I don’t like seeing you like this, Mel. And I don’t think you do, either. Maybe there’s another way around this.”

“I don’t know,” Melanie sighs. “It’s bad enough with Jon. He seems to think that if he doesn’t traumatize people he’ll wither away into nothing.”

“Christ.”

“I know. But I’m not Jon.” She smirks. “Thankfully.”

“I’m sure he’s trying his best,” Georgie says, because god knows what he’s getting himself into this time. Another way, another way… “Is it the work that sustains you, or just the place itself?”

“What do you mean?”

“Would you die if you stopped working or if you just left the Institute?”

“I don’t know,” Melanie admits. “I thought it was the work, the statements, or maybe both… it’s definitely the statements for Jon, but Basira just sat around for a while, and she was fine…”

“What if you went there, but you just didn’t do any of the work? The statements, or whatever. Is that still… is that still evil?” Georgie is pretty sure none of the employees can get fired there. Crazy place.

“I… maybe,” Melanie says hopefully, and Georgie can see the hints of a smile beginning to creep up on her face.

“So just go back to work tomorrow, and you’ll be fine,” Georgie says slowly, hoping she’s getting all this right.

“Yes. Yes, I think—I think that might work.”

“Is that okay?” Georgie asks, squeezing Melanie’s hands hopefully. “I don’t want to make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

Melanie’s gaze flits to the ground. The sparks of fury in her eyes from earlier are completely gone; now Georgie’s not really sure what she’s feeling right now. Her girlfriend hasn’t been the same since the Slaughter released its hold on her; it’s not necessarily bad, but a Melanie without anger edging every emotion she possesses is a Melanie that Georgie still hasn’t quite gotten used to yet.

She will get used to her, though. Because Georgie knows now that this is a Melanie that can finally allow herself to be vulnerable, when anger is all that she’s ever known. 

Melanie cried in her arms last week. It was the most wonderful thing Georgie had ever seen.

“I’m just… scared,” Melanie says finally. Her eyes meet Georgie’s again, and for once, maybe Georgie can feel the fear that she had felt. “I hate it all. I hate what they’re doing. But I’m scared of it—it’s horrible, all of it. We lost Tim. We almost lost Daisy… Elias is in prison, and yet—I feel like he’s everywhere.”

Melanie glances wildly off to the side at something Georgie doesn’t see, as if she’s looking for something watching her right now. Georgie often finds it difficult nowadays to empathize with people and their irrational fears, but looking at Melanie she knows it’s no joke.

“He could watch me whenever he wanted. I’m sure he’s probably laughing at me right now, trying to escape the Institute,” Melanie huffs bitterly. “And… god, I don’t know who Martin’s working for, but I know he’s evil. I thought I was just mad at the injustice of it all, but I’m _scared_ , I’m so scared, Georgie.”

“Well, I’m not afraid of anything,” Georgie says, pulling Melanie back into a tight hug and earning a watery chuckle from her. “I don’t know about all of this Institute shit. But I _will_ do whatever I can to make this all less scary for you.”

“Thank you,” Melanie mumbles softly.

“If you need me to come with you to work tomorrow, I will. I can…” As tempted as she is to do so, she can’t be there with Melanie at all times. She’d made that mistake already with Jon. Georgie had made a promise to herself. She’s not getting involved with the Institute, no matter what. “I can’t be a part of your little—whatever it is at the Institute. But I can try to be there when you need it.”

“No, no, of course,” Melanie says quickly. “No, you shouldn’t have to get roped up in all of this, god. You’re the only thing I have outside of the Institute. Thank you, Georgie. Thank you.”

“No problem,” Georgie says, like she always does, but this time she means it. Because this thing she can do for Melanie. This is something she wants to do. She squeezes Melanie once, then releases her from the hug. “Now, let’s get you back to bed. You’ve got a big day ahead of you.”

Melanie reluctantly lets her carry her in her arms, and Georgie practically tucks her into bed. 

“I love you,” Melanie mumbles sleepily, and through her tired eyes Georgie knows she means it. 

Sometimes Georgie has off days, days where she’s so numb she’s not sure if she was ever living after the incident. But now, looking at Melanie, she’s so overwhelmed with love and warmth filling her chest that she is absolutely sure she’s alive.

She leans over to give Melanie a soft kiss on the cheek, and Melanie closes her eyes and she’s asleep in moments, looking more peaceful than Georgie’s ever seen her in a long time.

“I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> cannot believe i wrote a sickfic. in the year twenty of the twenty one. i guess that's just what tma does to me it makes me like sickfics


End file.
